


Slip (Stasis)

by bolognatome (rainglazed)



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Pairing if you Squint, sad future children, vague references to ptsd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 06:55:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1500983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainglazed/pseuds/bolognatome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the desert Laurent has trouble adjusting to the new (old) world.  Nah helps him get a manakete's perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slip (Stasis)

Sometimes at night he thought he could still feel the sand on his skin -- the sediment had a way of insinuating itself everywhere and even after thoroughly shaking out his robes he found grittiness pouring from the threads, from the sun faded fabric of his mother's hat.  The desert had not felt real in many ways -- the heat, the villages that Laurent could never seem to find again, lost in the swirling hypnotic air.  Time had stood still there.  Laurent had never felt quite so young nor so old. 

Now time rushed past him again like a cold spring thaw and there were mornings he still woke up seeing double -- the desolate ruins of his home over the creaking hut in the sands over the mill of people bustling about the merchant's fair.  After years of going without the wealth of goods and peoples was overwhelming and after an hour of wandering around Laurent found himself sitting at the edge of the town fountain, watching children scream as they chased each other with wooden swords. 

"Bullion for your thoughts?" 

Laurent blinked up at Nah, whose usual studious demeanor now held a small smile.  "Idle musings, nothing worth communicating," he said easily.  Pictured sand flowing through his fingers. 

The girl sat down next to him, precisely arranging her skirt.  "Can you believe it?  I was talking to a cleric and realized that the royal library is still here.  Thousands of books burned to ash in our time, right at our fingertips."  Reaching down, she pulled a satchel into her lap and rummaged through it.  "Take a look." 

Laurent looked down at the leather bound volume in this hand, calloused fingers gliding down the slide.  "A book of natural history." 

Nah nodded.  "It's one of a set.  I could never find it back home." 

"Home." 

Nah fidgeted, mouth stretching into a slight grimace.  "Our timeline.  The future." 

"A time that never was."  He hadn't meant to say that.  He didn't know what had spurred it.  Nah looked up at him. 

"A time that never was," she echoed.  "And hopefully never will be.  That's oddly poetic of you, Laurent." 

"Life it too short not to have a bit of poetry." 

When Nah smiled it was subtle and understated -- a clasp of her hands, the small upturn of her mouth, a wrinkle about the eyes.  "Our lives in the future would have been very short."  Laurent did not reply.  "And yet, I find myself missing it sometimes." 

"The sentiment is unreasonable, since it would consequently result in your destruction." 

"And yet I have it all the same.  Strange, isn't it?  I could live for a thousand years, and yet I'll always think wistfully back on those first fifteen which, technically, never happened." 

Laurent did not reply.  She sighed and turned to him.  "All I'm saying is that it'll take a while, Laurent.  Geez, most things do, don't they?  Training, learning new skills, making friends.  Heck, it took me forever to warm up to you and your weird creepy way of watching people."  She gave him a friendly shove on the arm.  "Give yourself some time to adjust." 

He had too much time.  He had too little.  The days ran together still, village after villages, oasis after oasis. 

Time had taken away his parents, and had given them back to him young, innocent, and with faces that lacked recognition when they turned towards him. 

He could still remember his mother's blood on the sand. 

No, it had been on the stone floor of her study, hadn't it? 

Blood under every nail and sand in every pore. 

"Laurent." 

He blinked.  Nah looked up at him seriously, hand outstretched.  He took it without thinking. 

"Listen to me."  Her skin was dry and covered with ink stains, nails cracked and uneven.  Nutrient deficiency, he thought idly.  He would have to check the camp stores.  "You're a good kid, but you always did think too much," she sighed.  "I'm saying, Laurent, that you'll be fine.  This too shall pass and all that.  Take it from a manakete." 

Something stuck out.  "Technically I'm older than you now," he said, looking down at her through his spectacles.  She straightened, prim. 

"Not that it makes any difference, since you like to pretend you're twice your age," she complained.  He smiled. 

"So says the little miss." 

She raised her eyebrows.  "If that's the tone you're going to take, why don't you carry my purchases back for me?  I'll even let you borrow a book I got on Ylissean history." 

He rose.  The sunlight glinted off the fountain, casting reflections onto Nah's face.  If he concentrated, it was the only thing he could see. 

"I would be honored to."


End file.
